


Mystery Viking Men Bring Justice To Chicago

by HandMeDownWorld



Category: Chicago Blackhawks - Fandom, Hockey RPF
Genre: Gen, Superheroes AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-23
Updated: 2013-02-23
Packaged: 2017-12-03 08:08:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,207
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/696125
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HandMeDownWorld/pseuds/HandMeDownWorld
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A tale of two heroes.  Inspired by that weird as hell Chevy commercial they play between periods.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mystery Viking Men Bring Justice To Chicago

**Author's Note:**

> So, I watched that Chevy commercial with Kane and Toews that always plays in between periods and this happened. I am so sorry.

"Dude, have you seen this?" 

Kaner blinked, flinching away from the bedside table and blinking before his eyes focused on the fresh newspaper that had been slapped down on the table top in front of him. "Mystery Viking Men Bring Justice To Chicago?" he muttered, squinting at the headline in the soft light coming from the small lamp in the double room, and glancing at Johnny as he flops down onto the bed on the other side of the table. He smirked, snorting quietly as Johnny sighs heavily and props his elbows on his knees, rubbing a hand roughly over his face. Johnny looks up with bags under his eyes.

"Vikings Kane," he says sternly, his eyes unwavering and serious. "They think we're vikings." 

Kaner snorts. "So what? It's dark, you can't expect anyone to see us clearly," Kaner says, rolling his eyes. 

"It's Chicago. There are streetlights everywhere. It's not that dark, Kane," Johnny insists, his eyes narrowing accusingly. Kaner was supposed to be on his side with this. He wasn't supposed to find it funny. The blonde doesn't reply and continues to stare at Johnny under raised eyebrows. "They think we're vikings," Johnny repeats slowly, as if Kaner might not have heard him clearly the first time. Or maybe he was just stupid.

Kaner makes a slightly high-pitched hum and tilts his head to the side thoughtfully. "Well the pads could kinda look like armor I guess. You know, if they're, like, silhouetted or whatever from the streetlights," he allows, squinting his eyes slightly and rubbing his chin as he looks off to the side. "But don't vikings have like those horns sticking out of the sides of their..." he trails off, catching sight of the absolutely outraged look on Johnny's face.

"No Patrick. We're hockey players," Johnny says, getting up and stalking across the room. "Not vikings."

"Yeah, yeah, I get the not vikings part," Kaner concedes as Johnny begins to pace the room. "But isn't it better if they think we're a couple of..." Kaner pauses and squints again at the paper in front of him, "...vigilante Halloween partiers?" Kaner makes a face as the skepticism creeps into his own voice. "Okay, well I'll admit, that's just fucking stupid. But still probably a bit better."

"No, it's not better," Johnny snaps, his hands balling into fists.

"Ok," Kaner says slowly, his eyes swiveling back and forth as his teammate stalks up and down the room. He purses his lips for a moment before flopping onto his stomach and leaning over the other side of his bed to start digging through a large black duffel bag. "Weren't you the one who was against wearing our hockey stuff in the first place? I mean, you were kinda right, they have our names on them for Christ's sake," Kaner's muffled voice says patiently, still sifting through the bag on the floor.

"That's not the point anymore," Johnny insists, opening his mouth to start to rant, but pausing when Kaner sits up again, silently handing his captain a small grey hand towel that had clearly seen better days. "Thanks," Johnny says, taking the cloth and immediately returning to his pacing, wringing the towel tightly in his hands. He picks up where he left off. "It's not about them knowing that it's us. Obviously, we don't want people knowing we've gone all Batman and Robin on Chicago-"

"-I'm obviously Batman," Kaner interrupts with a smirk. Johnny doesn't even blink.

"-And if we get caught...well that's bad, but if we're doing this, we're doing this our way. And our pads aren't armor, obviously, but it's the closest we've got so-stop smiling asshole," Johnny demands, stopping to glare at the moron grinning up at him from the far side of the room. "This is serious." 

"Yeah, I know. Obviously," Kaner rolls his eyes. "I just had a locker room flashback. It's kind of like my Vietnam, you know?" Kaner says, a smile beginning to stretch across his face before drops it, trying his best to mirror the serious expression on the other man's face. Clearly Johnny's not int he mood for his jokes at the moment. "Please continue," Kaner says, pursing his lips and leaning back on his hands, trying to pretend like he was listening. Just let the kid rant it out, he reminded himself. Once he loses steam he'll be back to his usual, slightly less psychotic, self. 

"We'll just, you know, try and be a bit more visible next time," Johnny says, mostly to himself, and even though he knows Kaner's only just pretending like he's listening, he feels obligated to say it aloud just in case. Because it's the principle of the thing. They're a symbol now. Something that people will learn to rely on. And that symbol is definitely not a couple of half-assed costumed vikings. He throws his towel directly in the Kaner's face. "And then we'll kick some ass." 

Kaner smirks as he throws the towel back towards his duffel. "Fucking right." 

.................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................

"Football players?!" Kaner exclaims, louder than he meant to, throwing his head back and barking out a laugh. Johnny just glowers at Kaner across from the table as Sharpy slides into the seat next to him, clapping a hand on his Captain's shoulder and smirking as his eyes flicker back and forth between the two of them.

"And what are you ladies gossiping about?" Sharpy asks, taking the liberty of sliding the newspaper out from underneath Kaner's fingertips. He raises his eyebrows as he quickly skims through an article featured on the center of the open page. "Seabsie, have you heard about this?" Sharpy asks, leaning back in his chair and looking over his shoulder at Seabrook as the man in question snags a Gatorade out of a fridge. 

Seabrook snorts as he looks at the newspaper Sharpy had handed him. "I thought last week they said they were vikings?" he questions, throwing the paper back on the table as Johnny silently clenches his jaw. 

"Who cares, these guys are insane," Sharpy snorts, leaning on the back two legs of his chair and folding his hands behind his head, his amusement shining brightly in his eyes. "What kind of psychos go gallivanting around Chicago in the middle of night playing superhero?" he laughs. 

"I don't know," Seabrook shrugs. "They're not doing anything wrong. I mean, they're probably some crazy ass comic book nerds, but they're trying to do some good."

"So far they've carried groceries for an old woman, stopped a guy from breaking into someone's car, and scared off a couple punk kids outside of a convenience store," Sharpy chuckles, shaking his head slightly. A couple of guys in football gear running off some thugs. What is happening to this city? 

"And they took those parking tickets," Kaner cut in before he could stop himself, his eyes growing wide in panic and locking on Johnny's suddenly tense form hunched over the table across from him. Shit. 

"The what?" Seabrook asks, furrowing his eyebrows. "I don't think I read anything about parking tickets." 

"Must've been in a different article," Johnny said calmly, briefly lifting his head off his arms in order to be heard clearly before putting it back down. 

Seabrook shrugged. "What did they do with the parking tickets?" he asked curiously, his eyebrows pulling slightly together.

"Oh, uh...," Kaner trailed off for a second, wondering if he should just tell them the truth or make up some bullshit story knowing they wouldn't know the difference either way. Fuck it. "I read that they stole all the parking tickets on that block by that children's hospital downtown. You know, the one where all those people park when the hospital's lot is full? They get ticketed all the time, you know...," Kane trailed off, biting his lip slightly as Sharpy and Seabrook continued to stare at him, expressions completely unchanging. "Stole the meter-mounty's copies too, from the truck and all that, I heard," he added, a bit belatedly, awkwardly clearing his throat and picking at the label of the Gatorade bottle sitting in front of him. 

"Sounds like we got ourselves a couple of Boy Scouts, eh?" Sharpy quips after a moment of silence, smirking slightly as his eyes drifted to his left where Johnny's arms were folded on top of the table, his head still resting on top and hiding his face from the room. "What do you think Captain? Has Gotham City got ourselves a couple of new heroes?" he asked, eyes glinting playfully, and reaching over to shake the younger man's shoulders roughly.

"Fuck off," Johnny mumbled, shrugging his teammate off, not even bothering to lift his head to address the moron sitting next to him. 

"Someone's cranky this morning," Sharpy scolded, his smile stretching even further across his face. "Don't you feel safer with these guys patrolling the streets? Huh? Don't ya Johnny?" he prodded, elbowing his captain in the side until Johnny pushed himself out of his chair and walked straight out of the locker room, his hands stuffed in his pockets as he ignored the three calling out to him from the table. 

"He okay?" Seabrook asked, raising an eyebrow at Kaner, who shrugged in response and stared down at the table with furrowed eyebrows. 

"You know what, I'll see you guys later, I've got somewhere to be," he said, getting out of his chair and exiting through the same door as Johnny, but bolting down the hallway in the opposite direction. He doesn't have much time, but he'll damned if he let's Johnny get discouraged.  
................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................

 

"I can't believe we're doing this again," Johnny grumbled as Kaner shuffled him forward and into a darkened alleyway. 

"Oh come one, we might not be saving lives or anything, but we're doing some good," Kaner insisted, reaching up to slightly adjust his jersey. It was store-bought, and it felt different from the one he wore on game-day, but Johnny had insisted they didn't use their real ones in case they got damaged, but Kaner wasn't sure it was worth all the trouble. These ones itched. 

"Sure," Johnny snorted. "We're practically Boy Scouts," Johnny muttered somewhat bitterly as he quoted his teammate from earlier that morning. 

"You're really going to take anything Sharpy says seriously?" Kaner asked doubtfully, raising his eyebrows in a combination of disbelief and amusement. Johnny didn't even look at him and Kaner exhaled sharply from his nose in slight irritation. "You can't actually believe we're not making any difference at all out here, right? I mean, think about it; those guys we scared off in front of that liquor store the other day? You saw the woman's face at the cash register, I don't think I've seen anyone more relieved in my entire life. Those guys looked shady as hell and who stands around like that in front of a store at two in the morning anyway? And those people whose parking tickets we stole? Those were probably parents staying overnight at that hospital-don't you think they have enough bills to worry about? And yeah, maybe helping out that old lady wasn't exactly key-to-the-city worthy, but she really appreciated it-and she gave us those cookies. Those were fucking good cookies, and you know it," Kaner paused, pointing at Johnny's face briefly to emphasize his point. "So stop fucking pouting, Johnny. Because look," Kaner said, throwing his arms out as he stepped directly under a streetlight. "We got our armor, you've got the cowl, and I can probably find a cape somewhere," Kaner half smirked dropping his hands to his sides. "And I spent all goddamned day making our fucking bat signal and I'm not letting you waste it just because you're on your period," Kaner half shouted, pointing at the sky straight above Johnny's head.

The Captain's eyebrows shot to his hairline as he tilted his head up. "That's the logo for Chevy," he deadpanned, turning back to look at Kaner and doing a predictably good job at hiding how impressed he was by this whole little speech that Kaner had obviously had half planned out and spent at least a solid hour rehearsing in his head. 

"Yeah, well, fuck you," Kaner replied, narrowing his eyes before beginning to grumble quietly to himself. "Would it kill a guy to show a bit of appreciation every once in a while? For fuck's sake..."

Johnny just chuckled quietly to himself, shaking his head. He was, admittedly, still in disbelief as he once again glanced up at the spotlight shining brightly in the sky, Kane turning to look up at it with him before they both faced each other, silently conceding that neither of them have done anything half-assed in their entire lives and wondering why on earth one or the other of them had thought for even a second they were going to get away with meandering haphazardly through their self-imposed duty of cleaning up the streets of Chicago. 

Kaner shrugged and nodded slightly, as if he were thinking the exact same thing and Johnny sighed quietly as a smile barely tugged at his lips, turning with Kaner to face out of the alleyway where he could stare into the shadows of Chicago. 

"Let's do this."


End file.
